Eve Read online

  “How you doing?” Carlo asked, smiling at her.

  “I’m a’ight,” she responded, trying to sound uninterested.

  “You’re Butter’s girl, right?”

  “I ain’t nobody’s girl.”

  “Then I guess I’m not stepping on anybody’s toes by talking to you?”

  “No harm in talking.” She smiled.

  Carlo openly looked Cassidy up and down. The pink sweat suit she wore hugged her body, accentuating her breasts and hips. Carlo had to fight off the erection that was trying to punch its way through his pants. He was totally smitten with Cassidy.

  “Why don’t you get in?” he asked, opening the door.

  “Nah, I don’t get into cars with strangers, but you can get out and talk to me,” she told him.

  Carlo smiled and stepped out of the vehicle. Cassidy couldn’t help but admire his style. His clothes looked as crisp as the day they came from the store and his jewels were polished to a finish. Cassidy wasn’t really into white boys, but he was very easy on the eyes.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, leaning on the Benz.

  “Cassidy,” she responded, licking a smudge of chocolate from her upper lip.

  “Cassidy, beautiful Cassidy. Anybody ever tell you that you look like a model?”

  “Yeah, every lame-ass nigga trying to holla.”

  “Then I won’t tell you,” he countered.

  “Very funny,” she said, preparing to cross the street.

  “Hold on,” he said, touching her gently on the arm. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, I’m just trying to strike up conversation. Why are you acting like you’re in such a rush?”

  “Cause time is money,” she said flatly.

  “Oh, I see.” He smiled. “You’re bout your paper, huh?”

  “Please believe it. No offense, sweetie, but if I’m gonna put in time with somebody, he has to at least have something going for himself.”

  “Baby, I got the whole world in my hands. My name is Carlo; everybody knows me.”

  “I don’t know you,” she lied. Cassidy knew full well who Carlo was. He was the man behind Butter and Felon’s rise to power. As far as street players went, he was the man to see.

  “That’s a shame.” He shook his head. “Maybe you could get to know me?”

  Even as Cassidy and Carlo exchanged game, a plan started unfolding in her head. She knew she was wrong, because Carlo did business with Butter, but she couldn’t let the opportunity pass her by. The hustlers she dealt with had cake, but not on the level of Carlo De Nardi. Where they had a few thousands, he had millions.

  When Eve hit the block, some of the home girls were gathered on the stoop. Big Kiki was engaged in a conversation with Rah. When Kiki saw the youngster approaching her, wearing a fitted cap and army jacket, she took a defensive stance.

  Eve nodded. “Sup, Twenties?”

  “Eve?” Kiki asked, straining her eyes. “Girl, you need to stop rolling up on people like that. You trying to get blasted?”

  “You wasn’t gonna do shit.” Eve smiled.

  “You got that right,” Kiki said, pulling a nine from under her sweatshirt. “This lil bitch do all my squabbling for me.”

  “What’s good?” Eve asked, giving them both dap.

  “Waiting on Cassidy’s slow ass to come back with the Dutch so we can blaze,” Rah said.

  “Pothead bitches,” Eve joked.

  “What up, big boy? Fuck you doing out here away from your zoo?” Kiki asked, acknowledging Beast.

  “Nothing, just hanging with Eve,” Beast replied sheepishly.

  “We got some E&J popping off.” Kiki exposed the bottle. “Your PO don’t test for liquor, right?”

  “Hell nah,” Eve replied. “Pour me a cup.”

  The girls stood around, talking shit and sipping brandy. Big Kiki was one of the few members of Twenty-Gang who moved like Eve did. While most of the other girls were plotting on dudes or worried about primping, Kiki’s mind was always on her scratch. She and Eve didn’t always see eye to eye, but there was a mutual respect. About a quarter of the way into the bottle, Cassidy came walking up the block.

  “Look at y’all.” She sucked her teeth, “Drinking on the stoop like some corner boys. Ain’t y’all bitches got no class?”

  “Fuck you, sack chaser,” Kiki shot back. “You need to come get some of this liquor fo we drink it all.”

  “Sup, C.” Eve nodded.

  “Chilling like I do, baby girl.”

  “Hi, Cassidy.” Beast smiled. Cassidy just looked at him and rolled her eyes.

  “What took you so long to come back with the Dutch?” Kiki asked.

  “Girl, you know I got a fan club. I just bagged me a piece of prime real estate,” Cassidy bragged.

  “Who’s baby daddy you trying to fuck now?” Eve teased her.

  “Baby, you got it fucked up. This nigga ain’t got no baby mama. And if he did, the bitch shouldn’t have been slipping. More to the point, I think I just hit the muthafucking lotto!”

  “That’s the same shit you said about Butter,” Kiki reminded her.

  “Nah, Kiki. This nigga ain’t no street lieutenant. He’s the man behind the man.”

  “Well, don’t keep us guessing. Who is it?” Rah wanted to know.

  “Carlo!” Cassidy smirked.

  “Scandalous bitch.” Kiki covered her mouth.

  “Butter is going to kill you.” Rah shook her head.

  “Who the fuck is Carlo?” Eve asked, totally lost.

  “Eve, you’ve been away that long that you don’t know who Carlo De Nardi is? That’s the nigga supplying Felon and them niggaz,” Kiki told her.

  Eve looked at Cassidy in total disbelief. Even though Butter wasn’t her man, to fuck with someone he did business with was a bad move. If what her friend was doing ever got out, and it probably would, it could land her in a world of shit. Eve didn’t know Carlo personally, but she knew his name. His father and grandfather were tied into one of New York’s five families. She had never seen either of them, but remembered reading about them in the paper.

  “That’s some snake shit,” Eve said coldly.

  “Call it what you want, but I’m trying to get mine,” Cassidy said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Besides, Butter ain’t my man.”

  “Yeah, but you’re fucking him,” Eve pointed out.

  “Sweetie, don’t be so dense. Me and Butter are cool, but it’s more of a business arrangement than anything. He pays to play. Same as everybody else.”

  “Cassidy, you know that boy is gonna flip if he finds out. You’re dead wrong!” Eve said.

  “Let me hip you to something, before you start that preaching shit.” Cassidy snaked her neck. “I’m my own woman. Ain’t no nigga out here got a claim on this pussy. That means I’m free to fuck whoever I want. Butter does him and I do me. Ain’t nobody tell him to catch feelings. He knew what it was from the gate.”

  “Cassidy, this shit is gonna blow up in your face. You’re playing a dangerous game,” Eve protested.

  “No more dangerous than you running around strapped while you’re on parole,” Cassidy shot back. “Don’t start with me tonight, Evelyn.”

  Eve wanted to wring Cassidy’s neck. True, she was single and free to do whatever she wanted, but this situation was different. Butter wasn’t just some nigga, he was fam. They all grew up together and she should’ve had more respect for him than that. Luckily for Cassidy, Jasmine came walking up the block before Eve could dwell on it further.

  “I’ll be back,” Eve said over her shoulder to Beast. She strolled down the block and met Jasmine halfway. Jasmine had abandoned her whore outfit for a simple pair of jeans and sneakers. Gone was the paint around her lips and eyes, giving way to her clear skin. She looked more like a little girl now than the streetwalker she had been that morning.

  “Hey,” Jasmine said sheepishly.

  “You look much better now,” Eve said, touching her face.

  “Amazing what a nap and
a shower can do.” She smiled. Jasmine paused for a moment before continuing. “Eve, I spoke to my mom a little while ago. She told me that Jack is moving out. I just wanted to say—”

  “Save it,” Eve said. “I told you, Twenties take care of there own. Go on home, Jazzy. I think you and your mom need to talk.”

  Jasmine didn’t want the older home girl to see her cry, but she couldn’t help it. It was the first time someone had ever done anything for her and didn’t ask for something in return. She didn’t know why Eve did it, but she was glad that she did. Jasmine hugged Eve as tight as she could, then turned and left.

  14.

  Eve was awakened by the sound of her phone ringing. She looked at the clock and saw that it was barely ten o’clock. She wondered who, other than her PO, would have the gall to be ringing her phone at that hour. She picked up the receiver with the intention of flipping, but calmed down when she heard the voice on the other end.

  “What up, Eve?” Keisha said.

  “What’s popping, Twenty?” Eve replied.

  “Listen,” Keisha said, “I know you was probably still sleep, but this was the only time I could get away to call you. Remember the cat we discussed?”

  “Yeah. The nigga from Brooklyn who you want jacked. What about him?”

  “Well, I’ve been with him for the last day or so. Poor fool is trying to make a hoe a house-wife, but that’s his bad. Tonight is the night, ma. You ready?”

  “All day,” Eve assured her. “What’s the plan?”

  Eve stayed on the phone with Keisha for about ten minutes while they went over the details of the setup. It would be tricky, but Eve knew she could pull it off. Robbery was her craft. After hanging up the phone with Keisha, she decided that it would be a waste of time to go back to sleep.

  In her mind she went over the things that would need to be done before her meeting that evening. She rolled out of bed and took out an outfit for the day. The first thing she had to do was find something to wear. She still had some paper left from what the homeys had given her, but she needed something to go on top of that. When her hand brushed against the pistol under her pillow she knew just how to get it.

  Sean sat on the dingy bed in his motel room, smoking a cigarette. His nerves had been shot ever since Butter had forced him to participate in Spooky’s murder. He hadn’t slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes he saw himself helping Butter put Spooky in the ditch. Spooky was wrong for stealing, but Butter had no right to kill him. The sick bastard got a thrill out of watching him die. Sean’s hands were just as dirty. He could’ve refused, or maybe even gone to the police, but he hadn’t done either. Even if he had tried to alter Spooky’s fate, it would’ve sealed his own. The walls were beginning to close in on Sean, and he couldn’t take it.

  After swallowing down another mouthful of vodka, he stubbed what was left of the Newport into the ashtray. Overhead, a light flickered in its socket. Dragging a chair to the middle of the room, he climbed up and inspected the bulb. It blinked once more, then held its illumination.

  Connected to a thin beam next to the light fixture was a leather belt. Sean checked the double knot to make sure it would hold, then looped the other end around his neck. Adjusting the noose, he pulled the buckle against his Adam’s apple. He knew he deserved to be punished for his role in the murder, but wondered if he could do it to himself. The cheap folding chair gave under his weight, not letting the question linger in his mind for very long.

  Maria Chin moved casually through the aisles of the tiny grocery store, checking the stock on the shelves. She turned cans of peas and moved on to the creamed corn. Her husband had already done the stock as he did every morning, but she still moved from aisle to aisle as if it hadn’t been done yet. She kept one eye on the shelves and the other on the group of school kids who had come into the store.

  The children from the local junior high school always came to the store to buy their lunches and supply of junk food for the day. Every so often kids would shoplift, so the Chins were cautious of young people. Especially Blacks.

  “Yo, they got the new Mystic, son,” proclaimed a young man sporting an Afro. The two boys rummaged through the drink cooler, clowning and examining the different flavored beverages. One boy almost dropped a bottle as his friend shoved him.

  “You break, you buy,” Maria said nastily.

  “Damn, ain’t nobody gonna break nothing.” Afro sucked his teeth.

  “Hurry up and buy,” she insisted.

  No matter how much money they spent in the store, it was always the same thing with the Chins. They catered to the white kids, but treated all the Blacks and Hispanics as if they were going to steal. The two boys laughed at the lady’s accent and continued what they were doing. After a bit more deliberation, they took their items to the counter and waited for her husband, Artie Chin, to ring them up.

  “One fifty,” Artie said, placing the Mystic into a paper bag.

  “One fifty? These joints is only a dollar uptown,” Afro protested.

  “Then you go uptown and buy,” Artie said, not bothering to hide his dislike for the colored children.

  “Y’all always on that bullshit,” the second boy said, “Ching chong muthafuckas.”

  “You watch you mouth.” Artie pointed a crooked finger. “You no like, you no buy. Get out!”

  “Fuck you!” Afro shouted, knocking over a candy rack. The two boys laughed at the damage they had caused and ran from the store.

  At the moment they were making their exit, the Chins noticed a young man coming into the store. He was wearing a fitted cap and a bright red bandanna tied around his neck. Before Maria could position herself to spy on the young man, he pulled the bandanna around the lower half of his face and produced a large pistol from his hoodie.

  “Y’all know what it is,” he said, aiming the gun at Artie. “Empty the muthafucking register!”

  “We don’t want trouble,” Maria pleaded.

  “Fuck that! Bitch, get yo ass over here by this old muthafucka!” he demanded, waving her over to the register. Maria cautiously did as she was told.

  “You Blacks always give trouble. We all oppressed,” Artie said, trying to be diplomatic.

  “You trying to be funny?” the young man asked, pressing the gun against Maria’s temple. “Fuck that oppressed shit. You better get that muthafucking drawer open before I pop this bitch!”

  Artie nervously fumbled around with the register keys until the bell sounded and the drawer popped open. He stuffed the bills into a paper bag and handed it to the young man. After taking a brief glance into the bag, the young man looked at Artie like he was stupid.

  “You trying to be funny? Fuck this chump change. Set the real shit out,” the young man said, hopping over the counter. His braids flapped back and forth as he looked from Maria to Artie. After frisking Artie, he found a large roll of money tucked in the older man’s sock. “See,” he said, holding up the roll for Artie to inspect, “you almost made me pop yo dumb ass for this shit.”

  “Please, just go!” Artie tried to keep from shouting.

  “Yeah, so you can hit the panic button on me? Y’all slant-eyed muthafuckas must think I’m stupid.” the young man ran his hand along under the counter until he found what he was looking for. Using a pocket knife, he pried the panic button from its mount and cut the wires. The Chins looked on in shock as they realized they weren’t dealing with a run-of-the-mill stickup kid.

  “This how we gonna do this,” the young man said, making his way back over the counter. “Me and this bitch are gonna take a little walk. Now you keep your cool and I’ll let her go, but if I hear the police on my heels, this hoe is gonna get one in the brain.”

  “Don’t hurt my wife!” Artie shouted.

  “Fuck is wrong with you?” the young man said, slapping Artie with his free hand. “You trying to bring the heat, son? I don’t want this bitch. She’s just gonna make sure I get off the block without a problem. Now, let’s go, bitch.”

&nbs
p; Artie and Maria Chin had been robbed before, but never like this. The young man with the braids knew just what he was doing. Never before had Artie felt so helpless as when he watched Eve walk out of his store, clutching his wife about the arm.

  “Cassidy! Cassidy! Girl, you gotta see this shit.”

  Cassidy reluctantly pulled her head from under the pillow to see what her sister was shouting about. It was twelve o’clock in the afternoon and she usually didn’t get up until one, when the stories came on. Sheeka knew she was dead wrong for breaking her rest.

  After another few minutes of coaxing, she got out of bed and slipped on her Baby Phat bathrobe. With all the enthusiasm of a man walking the green mile, Cassidy made her way down the hall to the living room. When she entered, her eyes widened in surprise. Sheeka stood in the midst of three dozen long-stemmed roses, holding a Teddy bear dressed like a bellhop.

  “Girl, you must’ve laid it on this nigga,” Sheeka teased, holding a white card.

  “Shut up, stupid,” Cassidy snapped, snatching the card from Sheeka. The card only contained four words and a signature.

  Meet me for dinner tonight.

  Carlo

  Cassidy couldn’t fight back the smile that creased her lips. She hadn’t spent more than five minutes with Carlo and he was already tricking bread on her. Definitely a plus. Upon closer examination of the bear, she noticed the tennis bracelet tied around his neck. Carlo knew how to do it up. She was so busy swooning over the gifts that she never bothered to realize that she had never given him her address.

  Eve got off the train on 125th Street, grinning and whistling a tune. After she left the Chin’s grocery store, she had pushed Maria down into a pile of garbage and made her escape. The robbery had gone off without a hitch, and she was nine hundred dollars richer for it. Not bad for a few minutes of work. Now she was ready to shop.